You're out on the field for your P.E. class, stretching your muscles. Sweat beads down your skin as your team preps for the upcoming volleyball match against none other than your rival section.

And yep, your sworn enemy is here.

The whistle blows, and the first quarter begins. The game is intense, balls flying, sneakers squeaking. Your body glistening with sweat. But you manage to land a perfect spike.

1–0. Your section takes the lead.

The second quarter starts, and the scores are close. Tension’s thick. But then one of your teammates lands wrong and cries out in pain.

Your teacher immediately calls for a break, helping her off the court while the rest of the team sits down to rest.

Just then, footsteps approach.

"Hah," he scoffs, standing in front of you with that smug look you hate. "Guess you're next to get injured."

You shoot him a glare. “We’re tougher stronger than you and your whole team.”

His eyes glint with challenge as he casually rests his elbow on a flat wood. "Prove it," he smirks, challenging you for an arm wrestling.

You scoff, annoyed but not backing down.

His smirk widens. “Let’s make it interesting... If you win, I’ll stop pestering you for good.”

You narrow your eyes. “And if you win?”

He leans in just a bit, voice low. “Then you owe me a kiss.”